


some legends untold (turned to gold)

by bell and clarkey (magdalenehawthorne)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4413827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalenehawthorne/pseuds/bell%20and%20clarkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her timer is issued to her on the day she is born.</p><p>She's nothing more than a bit of a thing, lying in Abby Griffin's arms, asleep. She can barely open her eyes, nevermind check how long she has until she meets her soulmate. Regardless, the timer sits on the bedside table as Abby and Jake coo at their newfound joy. They stash the clock in a drawer until Clarke can take care of it herself. </p><p>(Or, the story of how Clarke Griffin's timer counts down to meeting Bellamy Blake.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	some legends untold (turned to gold)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: While I have borrowed portions of text from the TV show, I own no part of The 100.

**17 years, 11 months, 2 days, 10 hours, 5 minutes, and 34 seconds left.**   
  
Her timer is issued to her on the day she is born.

She's nothing more than a bit of a thing, lying in Abby Griffin's arms, asleep. She can barely open her eyes, nevermind check how long she has until she meets her soulmate. Regardless, the timer sits on the bedside table as Abby and Jake coo at their newfound joy. They stash the clock in a drawer until Clarke can take care of it herself. 

 

**12 years, 5 months, 167 days, 23 hours, 40 minutes, and 56 seconds left**

She's five years old, and finally allowed to hold on to her timer herself. Clarke wants to know what the timer is even _counting down to_ , and her father is happy to share the legends.

"The clock counts down, Clarke, see the numbers getting smaller? When all the numbers hit zero, you'll meet your soulmate," Jake says, as they sit in an armchair, watching the time decrease.

"What's a soulmate?" she asks.

"Well, there's a legend, from way back when our ancestors lived on Earth, that said when a soul descended to the planet, it would split into two. One half would go in one person, the other half in another. Neither person would ever be complete until they met their other half."

"So this clock will count down until I meet my other half?"

"Exactly."

"Will you be there? When I meet them?" she says hopefully.

"I'd be there in a heartbeat."

Clarke smiles and sets the clock on her bookshelf.

**10 years, 6 months, 230 days, 1 hour, 32 minutes, and 7 seconds left.**

She's attending the first day of classes for all the new students. The Ark air conditioning pumps around them as all the kids run around to meet each other. She immediately finds Wells, who she's been playing with since diapers. Usually, they can fool around a little before class begins, but Clarke doesn't even have time to hear who won the archived football game Wells watched the night before. Across the room, two timers go off.

They're supposed to bring their timers around with them, when the numbers inch towards zero, so the chimes can alert of the match. Unfortunately, it's more like a loud buzzing than any chime, so the room becomes pin-drop silent when the children lay eyes on one another.

"How exciting!" a parent whispers from a corner of the room, "They'll have so much time together!"

Clarke never really thought about it, but the range of times on her friends' timers is awfully big. She knows a girl who has _forty years_ left before she and her soulmate meet. Wells says that his clock has spazzed out--it doesn't show a time. Clarke is glad she won't have to wait too long, but when you're seven, ten years feels like an eternity.

**1 year, 1 month, 4 days, 12 hours, 54 minutes, and 24 seconds left.**

She didn't mean to hear the conversation. But suddenly she hears _oxygen_ and _not a glitch_ and _system failure_ and she can't walk away because the Ark is dying and her father is going to commit suicide to save it.

"No," her father says, "We can't avoid the truth. We have to let everyone on the Ark put their minds to a solution."

"What," her mother replies, "and risk anarchy? No. It's too dangerous. Promise me that you'll obey the council's orders, that you'll keep it quiet. _Promise me._ "

"I can't."

"For Clarke. Do it for Clarke."

"I am doing this for Clarke."

"They'll float you, Jake."

Clarke inhales sharply. Would they really do that, float him for telling the people the truth? She thinks of a girl who was floated last week. She was in lockup for stealing extra rations for her sick father. If the council could stomach floating a girl who was looking after her family, would her father face the repercussions of his actions?

He would. She’s certain.

**1 year, 1 month, 3 days, 1 hour, 22 minutes, and 36 seconds left.**

Clarke plays chess with Wells the next day, and tries to pretend that nothing is wrong.

She looks out the window, the one in the recreation room that usually has a view of Earth. God, if they had just gotten down there a generation or two sooner, this wouldn’t be a problem.

“You’re up, Clarke,” Wells says pointedly.

Clarke shifts her gaze back to the board. She really hasn’t been paying attention at all this game. She moves a piece somewhere random in response. “Sorry.”

“Well, if your strategy is to lose really fast, that was a great move,” he offers her a smile, but falters when he sees her expression, “What’s going on?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

He leans in. “You can talk to me.”

“My dad found a problem with the oxygen system. I’m not supposed to know.”

“They’ve had other malfunctions,” Wells replies, “They always figure out a way to deal with it.”

“No. This one might not be fixable. The council doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“The council meaning my dad?”

“Yeah and my mom and others. I think he’s going to go public anyway.”

“Clarke, he can’t. He’ll get floated.”

“I know. But what if he’s right? Don’t people deserve to know the truth? You can’t tell your dad I told you. You can’t tell _anyone_.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me. I promise.”

She really hopes it will be, but she doesn’t worry too much. It’s Wells. She’s never known life without him. He laughed at her when she was twelve and tried to apply some of her mother’s sacred lipstick. They’ve quizzed each other for every Earth Skills test since Level 1. She provided comfort when he finally figured out what a broken timer would mean for him. He’ll keep quiet, she knows it.

**1 year, 1 month, 2 days, 5 hours, 2 minutes, and 16 seconds left.**

It turns out that she didn’t know it.

Her father rejects her offer to assist in spreading the word. She wants to help, God, she wants to help so badly, but he’s just as stubborn as she is, no matter what he says. He’s wrapping her in a hug when the door to the Griffin home flies open and several guards clamor into the room.

“Jake Griffin,” the first one says, “you’re under arrest for treason.”

They start to pull him away, and she can’t let that happen, so Clarke springs forward. “Dad? Dad?”

And now they’re pulling him away and this isn’t happening this isn’t real, but she’s yelling, “No, no, no, no!” before she can comprehend that this is happening right now and Wells _betrayed her_. Betrayed _her father_. Suddenly, she’s being held back too, and she is beyond pissed at the unfairness of this situation.

“Get your hands off her!”

“Let me go!”

They do let her go, and she makes a break for her father again. “I’ll warn them. I’ll find a way.”

“No, Clarke, no, listen to me. Do not… do not do that.” he’s breathing heavily now, and it’s finally hitting her that this is the end.

The guards start pulling him away, pulling her back, leading Jake Griffin to the end of his life. There’s nothing more she can do for him now. So she cries.

**1 year, 1 month, 2 days, 2 hours, 31 minutes, and 47 seconds left.**

Jake Griffin is floated two and a half hours later. No one will tell Clarke that it’s happening, so it’s by sheer luck that she manages to get there in time.

“Dad!” she yells.

“Clarke, you shouldn’t be here, honey. You don’t want to see this. It’s okay.” He hugs her (for the last time) and she’s bawling because what else can she do when she’s about to lose her favorite person in the world?

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says as he passes her his watch, “Here. Keep that for me.”

She holds onto it almost as tightly as she’s holding him before relinquishing her grip a bit.

“I love you, kid,” he smiles.

“I love you. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.”

She’s ushered behind the glass partition and her father smiles at his family one last time. She covers her mouth with her hand, and god, she’s going to puke and hyperventilate simultaneously, but the doors open before any of that can happen.

When they shut them again, she turns to hold on to her mother (and hopefully not let go for a while), but doesn’t get the chance. Her mother is already being held back by two guards as more come for Clarke herself. She doesn’t understand what’s going on until the same guard that arrested Jake arrests her.

“Clarke Griffin, you’re under arrest for treason.”

Her mother yells anything before Clarke can. “She’s a minor, _she’s a minor_!”

As it turns out, the only thing being a minor gets her is a cell in solitary.

**0 years, 10 months, 16 days, 11 hours, 14 minutes, and 33 seconds left.**

Clarke’s cell in solitary confinement fulfills the meaning of its location. Some food (half-rations) is slipped through the door daily. She gets a checkup from medical once a month. No one will speak to her, although she receives a piece of charcoal anonymously. Is her mother alive? Who knows? Certainly not Clarke.

Prisoners in solitary lockup are not allowed to hold on to their timers. “For their own safety and for that of others,” the speech she was read before lockup claimed. Clarke doesn’t want it anyway. When she thinks of her timer, she thinks of the five year old girl who sat on her father’s lap and expected him to be there when her buzzer went off. She was so much younger then; she’s so much older now, and she’s aware that her father’s presence is an unattainable fantasy. But, she allows herself to sketch a meeting with a faceless person, her father at her side.

(If she’s got a year left to live, she won’t begrudge herself the memory of her father’s smiling face).

**0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 1 hours, 46 minutes, and 59 seconds left.**

She imagines herself in a forest.

Trees in abundance, the scent of wildflowers. The sun would hit her face, this time not through the thick, tinted Ark windows. She wishes, she wishes, it were reality, but it’s not. Reality can’t be broken by the banging door to her cell.

“Prisoner three nineteen, face the wall.”

“What is this?” she asks.

“Quiet,” the guard replies, “Hold out your right arm.”

“No. No. It’s not my time. I don’t turn eighteen for another month.” She’s been in here for long time, and she’d kill to leave, but not if leaving means certain death.

“Hold out your arm.”

They grab for her wrist, but she’s wearing her father’s watch--the only memory of him she has left.

“Your watch,” he says.

“No. It was my father’s," she pleads.

They tussle for the watch, before Clarke manages to get out into the central atrium of the Sky Box.

“Clarke, stop. Wait here,” her mother breathes. _Her mother_. Her mother, who she thought met the same fate as her father. Her mother, who is here, right now.

“Mom? Mom, what’s going on? What is this?”

She glances at the prisoners around her being shuffled towards the main exit. She didn’t think that it would come to this, but apparently the council still doesn’t have a solution.

“They’re killing us all, aren’t they, reducing population to make more time for the rest of you?”

“Clarke, you are not being executed. You’re being sent to the ground, all one hundred of you.”

“What? But it’s not safe. No. No. We get reviewed at eighteen.” If they manage to get to the ground, they’ll all die of radiation within minutes.

“The rules have changed. This gives you a chance to live. Your instincts will tell you to take care of everybody else first, just like your father. But be careful, I can’t lose you, too. I love you so much.” Her mother cradles her face as a guard comes up behind them. Clarke doesn’t notice the needle sinking into her neck until she’s losing consciousness her mother’s arms.

“Earth, Clarke. You get to go to Earth.”

**0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 8 minutes, and 23 seconds left.**

When she wakes up, she's not greeted with the quiet cell that she's become accustomed to. Clarke is surrounded by other kids--and they're loud. She's not nearly as excited as they are, not when she realized who she's seated next to.

"Wells, why the hell are you here?" He doesn't look smug with himself, but he doesn't look unhappy either.

"When I found out they were sending prisoners to the ground, I got myself arrested. I came for you," he says, which isn't good. Her and Wells' friendship is fried. He tossed out any trust Clarke had in him when he got her father floated a year ago. She's far from pleased to be hurtling towards Earth with Wells, especially when the deafening crashing noises start.

"What _was that_?" Clarke cries.

"That was the atmosphere," Wells replies.

The screen across from their seats suddenly kicks lights up, and the ship's passengers are greeted with a message from the Chancellor himself. He goes on for a bit, and Clarke pays attention solely for any information regarding the Ark and their landing on the ground. Jaha is explaining the details of Mount Weather when some kid climbs out of his seat to enjoy weightlessness.

"Check it out! Your dad floated me after all," the kid says. He's got a nice smile, and Clarke could find him attractive if he had the sense to stay buckled in. Which, he obviously doesn't, based off of the encouragement he's giving to the two other prisoners following his lead.

"You should strap in before the parachutes deploy," Wells says.

Since the kids do nothing, Clarke figures she might as well try her luck. "Hey, you two, stay put if you want to live!"

Jaha is still going on in the background throughout this exchange, so Clarke turns back to the screen until her focus is broken again.

"Hey, you're the traitor who's been in solitary for a year," the spacewalker says as he swings in front of her.

“You’re the idiot who wasted a month of oxygen on an illegal spacewalk," Clarke replies.

“But it was fun. I’m Finn," he smiles.

They don't have time for this. The parachutes will deploy soon. "Stay in your seats!" She yells, in hope of catching the attention of the floaters. There's no response besides a destructive-sounding crash and the screams of the kids around her.

“Retrorockets ought to have fired by now," Wells points out.

“Okay. Everything on this ship is a hundred years old, right? Just give it a second," Clarke replies.

“Clarke, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m sorry I got your father arrested.” He lifts his hand to touch her, but Clarke jerks herself away.

“Don’t you talk about my father.”

“Please, I can’t die knowing that you hate me.” The fact that he thinks they're about to die is concerning, but not enough to keep Clarke from sharing her true feelings.

“They didn’t arrest my father, Wells. They executed him. I do hate you.”

She doesn't even have time to bask in the devastation written all over his face before the biggest bang of the trip distracts her.

 

**0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 1 minute, and 20 seconds left.**

The sounds of the bodies slamming into the wall was disturbing to say the least, so she quickly gets up to find the two kids. She spots Finn with one across the ship. “Finn, is he breathing?” Clarke asks.

Finn doesn't respond because he decides to listen to the most _stupid_ suggestion yet. “The outer door is on the lower level. Let’s go!" someone says.

“No!" Clarke cries, "We can’t just open the doors!"

She follows the kids down the ladder to the lower level. They're all crowded around the huge door in the center of the opposite wall, being held back by someone at the front.

“Hey, just back it up, guys," a deep voice says. She manages to get to the door with some elbowing in time for the man to lay his hand on the lever.

**0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, and 1 second left.**

Miles above Earth, the first one is lying on its side. The room has clearly been ransacked for information. Papers are spilled over the floor; a decaying sewing machine has been tipped over. It lies next to a drawer that clearly lost its contents in the tumble. There is no one alive on the Ark who would care about the numbers on this screen. **  
**

The second one is still on a bookshelf. There is a thick layer of dust throughout the area, and this shelf is no exception. The bed is neatly made; the desk chair pushed in; the room unlived in. The ticking numbers were once a source of excitement for the members of the household. Now, the sole member has other things to think about.

Miles below the dying Ark, Clarke Griffin races forward and says, "Stop! The air could be toxic!"

A second later, Bellamy Blake looks at her; Clarke looks at him; and two timers go off where no one can hear them.

**0 years, 0 months, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes, and 0 seconds left.**

Jake Griffin once told his daughter that when two halves of a soul descended to Earth, they would split apart.

This time, they came together.

 ****  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I might consider adding more to this eventually, but for now it stands alone. Let me know what you think! You can find me on tumblr at [bellandclarkey](http://bellandclarkey.tumblr.com).


End file.
